But am I intended for Lord Gallant?She wondered. He had not actually proposed. Nor had they had any true outing together. Technically, there was no understanding between them, though the queen had hinted there should be.Do I encourage other suitors?Do I act as if I am already the future Duchess?Clara had never been uncertain about her behavior in a social setting before, but she certainly was now.
She wore a pale yellow gown with a square neckline, a strand of pinky pearls around her neck. Her sash was the same pink colour, as was her lace-lined fan. Papa wore a brown suit, his dark hair finally speckling with grey. Lord Merritt was just as popular as his daughter now that the political world was changing and everyone was fighting to have an earl on their side.
“Lady Clara! It is lovely to see you!” came the excited greeting of Miss Emily Astley. “Can you believe we are finally at our first ball?”
It was Emily Astley’s first time traveling to London, and though she and Clara had only met briefly, Miss Astley immediately assumed the role as Clara’s new companion. Truthfully, they hardly knew each other, and Clara knew Emily was only trying to feed off her popularity. It probably should have bothered her, but it didn’t. She desperately needed a friend.
“It is very exciting,” Clara did her best to sound chipper. “The next set should begin soon. Is there anyone you are hoping to dance with?”
Emily was a pretty girl, probably only eighteen, with a childish face. Of course, her short height did not help either. But surely, she would grow more, and she was stylishly blonde. The Astleys were not a very prestigious family, but with Clara’s help, she could probably find a nice third son of a lord, or a prominent businessman to match her with.
“Oh, I am not picky,” Miss Astley whispered, “any future lord will do.” She scrunched her button nose playfully, but it was her green eyes that made Clara do a double take.
I have always loved green eyes.
“You are ambitious!” Clara whispered back. “It will not be easy, but you have come to the right place.” She looped her arm around Miss Astley’s. “Let me first bring your attention to the future baron, Marcus Smith. I am dear friends with his sister, Lady Alice Palmer.” While Clara loved Alice, the thought of marrying her brother held absolutely no appeal. She had yet to see the man without a dribble of snot hanging from his nose. In her heart, she knew it was not Marcus’s fault he had an aversion to everything, but she could not imagine being close with someone who’s mouth, nose, and eyes were constantly leaking. Imagine kissing such a creature. The very thought made Clara shudder. But if Miss Astley was hoping for a future lord, Marcus Smith was definitely the one with the smallest competition. Emily seemed pleased with the introduction.
With Clara focusing not on her own concerns, but on helping another, she finally began to enjoy herself. As she danced with each gentleman, she did not think of them as a potential suitor for herself, but for the little Emily Astley.
All the dancing, matchmaking, and chatting was diverting, and Clara had nearly forgotten her troubles when the duke appeared. Lord Gallant was the highest ranking person present, and as such, the entire crowd stopped, mid-dance, to acknowledge his presence.
“Thank you,” Lord Gallant’s deep voice projected over the marble room. “Please, carry on.”
Clara had been dancing with Philip Coventry, but when the music started up again, the man stepped back. “Thank you for the dance, but I better not get in the duke’s way.” He looked frightened.
“Oh, I am sure he would not mind-” Philip did not wait for Clara to answer before he bolted off the dance floor. She held in an annoyed sigh as she attempted to escape the throng of dancers.
“Let me help you,” the duke whispered in her ear as he suddenly appeared at her side. Seizing her hand, he led her from the ballroom and out onto the open back balcony. “How is the ball so far?” he asked, looking around excitedly at the group of patrons. His black suit matched his head of hair perfectly, and made him look quite handsome. He truly was an amazing catch, Clara just wasn't interested.
“Well, it is my first ball, so I am not sure I am capable of assessing it.” One thing she did know was she would much rather be in the throng of it than off on the sideline. Thankfully, Isaac seemed to feel the same way. As soon as the next set started, they moved out to the dance floor. He was a proficient dancer and a fun conversationalist, but he definitely was not her favorite dance partner.
Your favorite dance partner is not here, her brain mocked. Clara’s mind was whipped back to the Twelfth Night celebration—finding the pea and Luke appearing in his knight ensemble. And then the feeling of being loved and cherished by the baron as he gently led her throughout the dance floor. There had been something so safe, and yet so pleasurable, as her best friend had whisked her around the ballroom. Being in Luke’s arms had been thrilling.
But I am not finding anything about this ball thrilling,she mentally confessed. Not one dance had come remotely close to dancing with Luke. Everything seemed dull, forced, and pointless. There was no point in dancing with the men, her choice had already been stripped from her. She could converse with the womento some extent, but no young lady wanted to be chatting with Clara when they could be out on the dance floor.
Now that Isaac had appeared, she was even more unsure what to do. They danced a full set together before he walked her back to her father. Then he immediately found another partner. Clara stood on the sideline for half an hour, but the duke was here, and no one dared approach her with him watching.
He is not watching!She mentally argued.He is dancing! Just like I could be!But what did it matter? Her path had been chosen for her, and until Lord Gallant decided he was ready to wed, she would be left waiting. A focal point, the talk of the town, but not yet a person of purpose. ThefutureLady Gallant. ThefutureDuchess of Preston. But for now, an untouchable placeholder. In the eyes of theton, her worth was pending, in a situation that was out of her control.
“I would like to go,” Clara told Papa. There were still several hours of the dance left, but she wasn't in the mood. “Please, let's go.”
Spain
Luke was thoroughly enjoying the time with his family. He helped his mother care for the children, assisted Alfonso in chores around the house, and fell asleep on the floor next to his little brother’s bed. The hustle and bustle of his everyday life was gone, and it gave him plenty of time to breathe, relax, and think. Slowly, the memory of Clara was becoming less painful. He could finally think of her without reflecting on the rejected proposal. As long as he did not think of her for very long.
John graciously accepted whatever role was thrown at him, but after three weeks the man must have grown bored. Each day, his horseback ride stretched a bit longer. What began as only an hour-long ride gradually became two or three hours away from the villa. “Do you think he has found a miss?” Mother asked one day when John was out particularly long.
“I had not thought of that,” Luke answered in reply. “That would be interesting.” John had never shown any interest in a particular lady before.
A few days later, Luke spotted long, brown hairs on John’s riding clothes.Perhaps he is seeing someone.But it truly wasn’t any of his business.
After another month, Luke finally built up the courage to give his mother Clara’s letter. He knew delivering it to her would give her the chance to ask questions he did not want to answer, but he could not put it off much longer. Their trip was nearly halfway over, and while Clara’s rejection had been a sensitive topic, it had happened nearly three months before! Surely he had a better grip on his emotions at this point.
“Lady Clara asked me to deliver this to you,” Luke said, pulling the envelope out over breakfast that morning.
“Ahhh,” Mother nodded. “We are finally going to discuss what is going on?” She did not wait for him to answer as she opened the letter. It was fairly long and took several minutes to read. Manuel had already finished his meal and was begging to play outdoors. “Shoo,” Mother said with a wave of her hand as she folded the note back up.
The boy happily left the wooden table. John was out for his ride. Alfonso was at work, and little Isabella slept in the other room. It was just Luke and Mother, like it had often been in his younger years.
